Breakdown
by Sam the Wise
Summary: When the clones of the 501st begin to fall ill with a mysterious sickness, Ahsoka, Anakin, and Rex realize that not all is as it seems.
1. Prologue

_Here it is! As promised, a new, improved, and nicely polished rewrite of the first chapter. Well, not everything was changed and some is still left intact, but some stuff was added and others were changed around. I would suggest reading near the end, because that's where most of the changes were made, but the whole thing has been tweaked a bit here and there. Interactions have been kept, however, because I was quite fond of them. Just go through the whole thing again, will ya? It'll refresh your memory._

 _Now that that's over with, I have a lot planned for this and I'm excited to share it with you all. Reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated._

* * *

 _Outer Rim, 0900 Local Time._

The General had once told Rex of a Jedi who'd deserted the Order, and the consequences that befell him.

To this day, he hadn't the slightest idea what it meant- because it was a Jedi tale, and in Rex's experience, Jedi tales always had hidden meanings. He'd asked Ahsoka once, and she'd recognized it, but known no more than he did.

Rex huffed and blinked the sweat out of his eyes. The heat came in waves against his armor, warm grit had lodged itself into the crevices of his gauntlets, and he could have sworn his undersuit was melting into his skin. He soldiered on through the discomfort in stoic silence. Had to set an example to the shinies of the 501st somehow.

One hand moved to rub the tense muscles in the back of his neck, just underneath the lip of his helmet, and was preparing to catch up to the General when Kix jogged up beside him.

"You alright there, Captain?"

Rex rolled his shoulders. "Fine, Kix," he said. "But I, ah, could use a dip in the icebox when we get back."

"I wouldn't normally prescribe that," Kix said with a hint of humor, "but in this case? Go crazy, Captain."

Rex chuckled and patted his left shoulder with his right hand, a clone's nonverbal thank-you developed soon after Torrent Company's creation. He made sure to exaggerate the movement to add a sense of sarcasm that clearly wasn't lost on the medic. Kix responded in kind, but was quick to bring the captain's attention to the mission at hand.

"Did the General say what we would find?"

"It's a seppie lab." Rex frowned. "What would you expect?" he asked, his head turning toward the medic. "I was hoping for intel, myself. Something we can use."

"And if we find something dangerous?"

"I don't know, Kix. You're the medic- what do _you_ think?"

Kix's helmet tilted in thought. "The Separatists are known for targeting dense population centers and important industrial sectors in the Republic." He breathed in audibly through his nose. "Biowarfare, chemical warfare… none of it would be beneath them."

Rex was inclined to believe that _nothing_ was beneath the Separatists. Attacking harmless planets, coercing neutrals into unfavorable alliances. It seemed they'd made a habit of being belligerent simply to spite the Republic. It was a perfect contrast. The Republic standing with its valiant army between civilized society and the violent Separatist armadas…

Clones weren't supposed to fantasize, but it was a welcome distraction.

Rex's lips lifted in a faint smile beneath his helmet. "Then it's our job to stop 'em, Kix. If the General's plan works out, there won't be so much as a trace of ash to track back home."

Kix chuckled lowly. "Yeah…"

"Hey, Kix, don't worry. We've done this a million times."

"Yeah, yeah I know. Sorry for bothering you, Captain."

"Nah," Rex clapped a hand on Kix's shoulder. "Seppie labs are horrorshows, Kix- I've seen 'em before. Regardless, we've got to go in with clear heads. For our brothers, and for the 501st."

There was a long pause where Rex thought Kix had withdrawn, until he straightened his back and nodded. It wasn't a lazy nod, or a respectful one. It was one of assurance and determination, and it lit a faint spark of pride in Rex's chest.

"Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down."

The medic fell back into place among the rest of the unit, leaving Rex to stew in his own thoughts about the mission. My mission, he thought with a swell of pride. If the Separatists were cooking up something nasty in that lab, it was _his_ job to eliminate it. For his brothers; his family.

Rex puffed out a hot breath and pushed onward. _This_ was his family. _Rex's_ family. He was proud to admit that that extended beyond just his brothers, and encapsulated both an energetic General and his equally exuberant apprentice. The two Jedi weren't far ahead and seemed to be conversing on their own. He pushed himself to catch up.

"Hey Rex!" Ahsoka greeted.

"Commander," Rex dipped his head. He turned to Anakin. "How much farther do you think, General?"

Anakin's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "We're coming up on it now, actually. Get the men ready, Ahsoka and I will run reconnaissance."

"Yes sir."

Rex turned back to the men and signaled them to follow the ridge of rock adjacent to the path the two Jedi took. It sloped steadily upward and came to a narrow, low cliff, which then descended into a steep slope all the way down into the ravine. He could see the General sneaking along the shadows on the other side.

Rex brought up his macrobinoculars. It was definitely an artificial structure, Separatist smooth. Like a flat orange pancake with evenly three spaced watchtowers along its circumference. From above, Rex figured he wouldn't have noticed it at all. He'd hand it to the Seppies; they were good at hiding. He turned the dial on his macrobinoculars and readjusted his footing.

"What do you see, Captain?" Beeped over his comm.

"Outer defenses are thin, General. Watchtowers, handful of battle droids by the doors." He lowered the binoculars. "Possibly a turret or two, but I don't think they've been in working order for some time. We shouldn't have too much trouble."

"Good to hear. Be down here in ten."

Rex secured the macrobinoculars to his belt and turned to the men. It was nearing dusk now, casting faint shadows across the rocks.

"We're repelling, men. Let's move!"

One by one, each trooper repelled down the rocky slope and into the ravine, where the General and Commander were waiting for them. They gathered in a semi-circle around the General, removing their helmets to wipe the sweat from their brows. Rex did th same. Heat wasn't the problem so much as the sweat it left behind.

"Listen up, men." The General took a knee and pulled up a hologram of the facility, rotating it. "Intel says the facility is mostly above ground, so we're relying on the cliff to provide cover. There are two entrances, one of which is entirely unguarded. That," he zoomed the hologram in to focus on a smaller entrance that didn't look like much of an entrance at all- "is because it's a window."

"Breaking in the old fashioned way," came the enthusiastic voice of Hardcase. "It's not my birthday, General."

"You don't even know your birthdate, Hardcase," quipped Jesse, who nudged his brother roughly in the shoulder with his elbow.

"Yeah? Well, I chose one."

"Without telling us? How do you expect us to know when to celebrate without telling us?"

"Hey!" Rex barked. The trooper's eye snapped back to the hologram. "Pay attention!"

The General quirked a brow in amusement. "As I was saying. Ahsoka, I'm going to need a diversion. Take Rex, Fives, and the new kids to the west entrance, show them how it's done. Jesse, Kix, and the rest will come with me. We'll secure the main entry points on the inside, open the door, and meet you there."

It was a simple plan, predictably relying heavily on Skywalker's involvement. But rarely did his plans fail.

Ahsoka was at Rex's side in the blink of an eye. She was practically vibrating with nervous energy and anticipation. He leaned in to whisper.

"Excited, Commander?"

Ahsoka grinned up at him, blue eyes twinkling with something he didn't recognize, but filled him with affection. A sliver of pride as well, because she'd learned as much from him as she had from the General.

"That's an understatement," she said wryly.

The General shut the hologram down. "Once inside, we'll push on to the labs. Don't be stingy with your charges- everything goes." Anakin took a breath, looking immensely pleased with himself. "Any questions?"

"One," Fives spoke, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. "When my clanker count comes through, what do I win?"

"Aw shut it, Fives," Jesse said, his eyes full of mirth. "I could score more seppies in my _sleep_ than you could out here."

"You wanna bet?"

"You're on-"

Rex cleared his throat loudly before the playful banter got out of control. "Control yourselves! We've got a job to do!" The two troopers dipped their heads apologetically, and Hardcase snickered. Rex scowled at the offending trooper in warning.

The General got back on his feet. "Evac is on standby. Once we're out, you're to make a run for the plateau a half-click east. If you get separated, head over that way and wait."

"Understood, sir. We'll see you on the other side." Rex slid his bucket back on and stepped back to await Ahsoka's orders.

"Good luck, Master," Ahsoka said.

"Don't you remember? Jedi don't believe in luck," Anakin cheerfully reminded them as he took off at a solid run toward the facility. His unit followed close behind, and soon, they disappeared from view.

Out of the corner of his visor, Rex saw Ahsoka roll her eyes. Rex let out a long-suffering sigh. "Orders, Commander?"

There was the slightest twitch of Ahsoka's fingers, dancing about the hilt of her lightsaber. "The largest gap in their defenses is between the towers. If we can get to the nearest tower, we should be able to use our new vantage point to flank the droids defending the doors."

"We'll have to go in quietly, then." He turned to Fives and appraised the shinies discreetly. "Fives and I can handle the tower while you and… What're your names, troopers?"

Both trooper stood at attention and held their fists tightly against their sides at perfect attention. "Lance, sir," the trooper on the right stated. "Uh, that's Throttle. Sir." The second trooper nodded minutely, but remained silent. Neither eased up.

Rex hands clasped behind his back. "Lance and Throttle can help you at the doors. They could use some practice alongside a jedi," he added.

"Right," she smiled, a little awkwardly. They'd break down soon enough. "We'll move along the cliff face and stick to the shadows as best we can."

Rex gripped Ahsoka's shoulder gently, chin dipping downward subtly in a smile that he knew Ahsoka would understand. She was the only one besides the General who knew most of their nonverbal indicators and methods of communication. It made things easier, more comfortable, and he was appreciative of her taking the time to learn. Her eyes sparkled with comprehension.

The Captain released her shoulder and together, they moved along the ridge as one cohesive unit, toward the nearest watchtower. Rex and Fives split from the main group when the cliff face cut off sharply and they watched as Ahsoka and the shinies approached the battle droids stationed at the doors.

"They'll learn," Fives drawled, referencing the shinies. "And if not from the Commander, then Jesse and Hardcase will straighten 'em out."

"I sure hope you're not considering anything," Rex grumbled.

"Nah. Well, actually... a bit of harmless hazing never hurt anyone-"

" _No_ , Fives." It was all in jest, Rex knew, but just to be certain... "Commander's nearing the doors. Let's go."

"Right behind you, Captain."

Using the defunct turret as a support, Rex and Fives climbed the watchtower's supports and each put a clean shot into the heads of the droids manning it. Down below a scuffle had broken out, where Ahsoka, Lance, and Throttle were making short work of the rest of the clankers. Rex propelled himself off the tower and into the sand below, blowing the head off an unsuspecting droid. Fives jumped down behind him.

"Now we wait," Ahsoka said, and began to pace. She was rubbing her arms to keep warm, the temperature having dropped dramatically since they first arrived. Her clothes weren't exactly insulating, either.

Rex took a comfortable seat on a rock by the door and watched her with veiled amusement.

One of the shinies lingered near the Commander, looking conflicted. He eventually worked up his courage and approached the young Jedi. "Permission to speak freely, Commander?" Lance inquired politely, standing to attention in that shiny way of his.

Ahsoka stopped pacing. "Go ahead."

"Well, I'm a trained technician, and I could get that door open. I... I'm just wondering why I can't just open the door from the outside, right now, and why we have to wait for the General to open it for us."

Ahsoka looked perplexed, before she came to realize what the shiny was talking about. "Oh! I think my Master mentioned something about... alarms. No one can enter from outside without someone on the inside to issue the all clear. That's what he told me."

"Oh. Thank you, sir. That was all." Lance nodded, satisfied, and returned to his fellow shiny's side. Fives was currently showing them the proper way to aim down a blaster's sights, and smacking them hard on the back when they got it right.

Ahsoka hummed quietly and stopped her pacing to stand in front of Rex. There was a faint twitch in corners of her mouth, but she didn't smile. "Master's taking a long time."

Rex rested his chin in his hand and sounded more exhausted than he actually was when he spoke. "I wouldn't worry about the General, Commander. He probably got caught up in his own fun."

"I know." She bit her lip, eyes downcast.

"You're worried."

"A bit."

"Don't be." Rex reached out with one hand to take hers in a sign of friendship. "Trust the General to follow through. He usually does."

"Easy for you to say, Rex. He's not your Master."

"But he is my General." Rex stood and let her hand go. "I owe him my life. It's my duty to concern myself with his safety. But I also know when not to worry."

Ahsoka's brow markings furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I know General Skywalker. I've worked with him since the start of the war. The General has had some... questionable plans in the past, but he always makes them work. He always comes back." Rex stepped forward and took her shoulders gently. "If the plan makes sense, he'll be fine. If not, he'll come back scuffed, but still alive."

"Scuffed?"

"Yeah," Rex chuckled. "Scuffed. Burns, lacerations, bite marks- the works."

"Bite marks?" Ahsoka gasped. "Well, actually..." She was trying to hide a smile, Rex could tell, but failed spectacularly. "I can see Skyguy getting bitten by any number of critters."

"Yup. There was this one time-"

They both jumped when something heavy and metallic made impact with the doors from the other side, followed by more crashing and a very unsubtle whoop. There was clearly a bit of a scuffle, the hum of a lightsaber blade, and a long minute of continuous blaster fire. Definitely the General and his unit. Rex took a step to the side and unholstered his DC-17s, casting a quick glance in Ahsoka's direction.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes at his non-verbal I told you so.

"Get ready, shinies," Fives cackled, bringing up the rear right behind Rex while Lance and Throttle readied their blasters at Ahsoka's side.

A mechanism inside the walls whirred, and the double durasteel doors swished open to reveal absolute chaos.

Droid parts, collapsing inner walls, a few blaster scorches and lightsaber marks along every conceivable surface was the first thing to greet them. Rex heard one of the shinies whistle behind him. More droids were filing in from the hallway to the left. They didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and Rex wondered where the facility was keeping them all. This was cannon fodder, after all- why throw so many droids at them knowing full well that even a single Jedi could handle them all easily?

He couldn't waste his time thinking. "Let's move!" Rex bellowed, and he charged forward to join Hardcase, blasters hot and firing.

Hardcase had wisely taken shelter behind a fallen wall panel, while Jesse and Kix had crammed themselves behind one of the thin supports. The General seemed perfectly at ease, deflecting shots here and there, but once the door opened, he was back into the fight with Ahsoka by his side.

Two by two, Rex took his shots, determined to keep as many of the battle droids off his General and Commander's backs as he could. Beside him, Hardcase's insults were devolving into incoherent shouts and a few short bouts of laughter in between. Jesse and Kix seemed fine, and Lance and Throttle were holding their own surprisingly well for a pair of new troopers.

The durasteel paneling he hid was warping in the onslaught of blaster fire. Rex adjusted his position so that he was on his knees and peeked his head over the top, reaching both arms up and over to fire another barrage of shots into the writhing mass of droids and droid parts-

\- something hot and heavy suddenly slammed hard into his chest, sending him reeling. He lost his grip on his blasters as the sensation flared into hot pain just below his collar bone, gasping in shock. Hardcase had stopped firing to call for Kix, his voice somewhere between frantic and agitated. All Rex could focus on was the boiling heat beneath his armor, and he scrabbled at the blaster hole as if doing so would lessen the pain.

"Captain's down!"

Kix was on his knees by Rex in a moment, prodding the seared edges of his armor with nimble fingers. Medic's fingers. Rex felt something cool against his charred skin, seeping in through the hole. Kix was applying bacta, without removing his armor, so it must not have been a terribly bad wound. He groaned and muttered a select few curses in discomfort.

"Sit tight, Captain. It's not deep, but we're not exactly in a good position to be removing your armor right now," Kix said, easing the irritated Captain into a sitting position behind the damaged durasteel panel.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Kix." His shoulder ached something horrible, much too close to the shot he'd taken when they first met up with Cut and his family. He rose to his feet and sent Kix back to support Jesse. His right arm had weakened from the shot, but he could still hold a blaster.

Ahead, the two jedi were starting to push forward, into the hallway. Rex pushed himself to his feet unsteadily, hands loose around his blasters, feet a little too wide apart. He bound after the jedi, ignoring the light sting in his shoulder, his brothers right behind him. It was a narrow hallway lined with leering security cams, and at the end was a main room connecting various hallways. Ahsoka and the General double-teamed to take them out, slicing each camera neatly in half with their 'sabers to cut off the feed to any potential spy.

Rex stood by and watched as his General barged through to the main room like a flying torpedo of force-propelled rage, Ahsoka hot on his heels... only to halt suddenly and peer around the room in utter bewilderment.

"Empty." Ahsoka peered around the room, looking every bit as confused as her master.

"The technicians? The scientists?" Rex stepped through the doorway to get a look for himself. Indeed, it was very empty of people. He hissed when he twisted too far and pulled on the wound.

"Maybe they ran off? Typical." Fives snorted derisively. "Don't expect a Separatist to put up a fight without their clankers around to hold their hands."

Jesse hovered over the carcass of a droid and nudged it with his foot. "Maybe they're hiding?"

"Ran off, more like. No transports from what I've seen," said Kix.

Jesse grumbled, "That's what I meant."

"None of that matters, now. Sweep the facility _thoroughly_ ," Anakin ordered. "Don't be stingy with charges, either- we're blowing this place sky-high."

A chorus of 'yes sirs' echoed in the empty chamber and the troopers split up, heading down each corridor in pairs. Rex and Ahsoka headed straight for what they assumed were living quarters, given the more aesthetically pleasing architecture and decoration. Double doors opened into a massive domed chamber filled with luxury items; comfortable single beds, two large kitchens on either side, and a small recreational center in the middle of it all.

It seemed out of place for a Separatist facility. He'd expected something darker, more... _mechanical_ , to reflect the droids they used. Colder, perhaps. But this seemed like a very average fledgling colony, not an enemy lab. Rex's brow creased as he and Ahsoka drank it in, both equally surprised by the lived-in appearance of the place.

But where had everyone gone?

"I'll check those lockers, you check the terminals." Ahsoka headed toward the lockers situated against the far wall, between the bunks.

The terminals lacked any military-tier protection and were easy to break into. Personal logs, entertainment vids, and downloadable holonovels were all he found, alongside a disembodied diary entry complaining about bad caf. Rex sorted through each diligently just in case, but found little else.

Rex huffed in disappointment. "Find anything, Commander?" He looked over his shoulder at the padawan, who was busy sifting through lockers full of miscellany.

"Trinkets and clothes. Other than that, nothing." She stopped to admire a particularly shiny toy droid, then dropped it back into the locker. "Though it _does_ seem like they left in a hurry. Have you noticed? Everything's where they left it. No one's been here in at least a day." She held out her arms, indicating the living quarters in their entirety.

Rex considered this for a moment. "Where would they go? We haven't any signs of ships leaving or entering orbit in the bast week."

Ahsoka shrugged. "Maybe they died?" Rex stared hard at her and folded his arms across his chest. She snickered as if she could see his pinched expression behind the helmet. "Kidding, Rexster. I'm not _that_ morbid."

With one last sweep around the room, they turned to leave and meet up with the others, but halted when Rex's comm beeped. Kix's voice came through, sounding urgent and unsettled.

"Captain I have a bit of a problem down in medical. You'll want to see this, sir."

He made uneasy eye contact with Ahsoka through his visor. Kix sounded distressed, and that made Rex wonder what could unsettle the medic so thoroughly. They headed back down the hall toward the medical bay.

Kix was standing at the entrance when they arrived, shifting on his heels with his helmet clipped to his belt. He clutched his scanner to his chest and looked down at it periodically. "Captain, Commander. Good. You'll want to see this- follow me." He guided them to a trio of cells, and alarm bells were set off in Rex's head. Cells in a _medbay_? Even for Separatists, that seemed unusual. They were open and unshielded, so Rex could only assumed two things; either the inhabitants were dead, or they were empty. Kix would never show them an empty cell.

He and Ahsoka peered inside. Two clones, dead and unarmored, were splayed out on the floor of two of the cells. Their skin was unnaturally pale and covered in ugly black rot like a deadly rash, spreading along their necks and jaws and across their forearms. In some places, open lacerations were still oozing dark red blood. Their bones looked uneven and out of place as if their joints had been twisted past their breaking point, and one of them looked like he'd been violently sick at some point during his captivity.

A chill went down Rex's spine at the sight, and behind him, Ahsoka gagged. He slipped his helmet off to better see the extent of the wounds, his nose wrinkling at the stench.

Kix held out his scanner to show Rex the results. "They've been here a day at least, based on... how far along they are. I did a thorough scan of the bodies and each showed large-scale rapid decay, the likes of which I've never seen before." Kix's voice wavered and he continued. "I don't know what's worse; that they wasted away while they were still alive to feel it, or that they were all alone while it was happening."

"What could've done this?" Rex asked absently, his head lowered in respectful mourning. One did not have to know a brother personally to mourn him. And, since there were none of their fellow soldiers around to mourn them, Rex would do it for them.

"I don't know, sir," Kix shook his head fervently. "I scanned their IDs- 41st, veterans. Their bodies also show signs of various injection sites at every major joint and organ. I… Sir, I'd go so far as to say they played a pretty big part in whatever went on down here. What exactly, I'm still not certain, but… I'd like to request a quarantine crew to collect the bodies." Kix's face had gone hard and impassive. "So we can determine what was done," he amended when Rex visibly stiffened.

"I understand," Rex said eventually. The captain activated his comm to the General. "We have a... situation down in medical, General. Two dead- Kix thinks they were used in trials of some sort."

" _Trials?_ "

"Yes, sir, but I'll let Kix explain. Requesting permission to call in a quarantine crew for transportation."

" _Go ahead."_

The comm clicked off. Rex looked back up at Kix. "Call it in, Kix."

Rex slipped his helmet back on and exited the lab, Ahsoka not one step behind him.

* * *

The LAAT/i pulled into the hangar of the Resolute. Rex was off first and made a beeline for his personal quarters, intent on getting to his private quarters as soon as possible. Being a Captain had its merits, a personal cabin being one of them. Sometimes he still sneaked into the barracks and snagged an empty bunk for himself, just to be in the company of his brothers.

But as of now, all he wanted was a bit of solace. Some time to unwind before he got to work writing his mission report and some peace before his brothers dragged him off for a spar or two.

" _Rex_?" The soft voice of Ahsoka drifted over his comm. Well, there went his solace.

"Need something, Commander?"

" _Your help._ " He heard her laugh. " _Think you'll be up for a trip to the mess in an hour? Jesse's teaching me sabacc._ "

"Is he now?" Rex quirked a brow and hummed in amusement. If Ahsoka wanted his company, then who was he to deny her? Besides, Jesse was a notorious cheater among with the shinies. No good Captain would let the same fate befall his Commander. "Alright, Commander. I'll see you there."

" _Thanks, Rexster._ "

Rex relaxed back into his chair. "No problem, kid."


	2. Piece by Piece

_This chapter is mostly intact, save for a few additions. Keep an eye out for the third chapter._

 _To any new readers, I hope you're enjoying this so far!_

* * *

Rex's first night aboard the _Resolute_ since the mission planetside was more of a secondary assignment than a respite. He spent an hour hunting down the sources of a few holos of the explosion and confiscating them, and another hour reprimanding the troopers responsible _thoroughly_. When clear, he'd tagged along with a few troopers to the mess hall for dinner, but when he sat down with his brothers and set his tray on the table, his appetite had abruptly taken a sharp nose-dive toward non-existent.

He forced it down nonetheless, for his own health.

There was also a headache building behind his eyes, distinct from the headaches he got when Jesse or Hardcase got into a drunk screaming match with the 'fresher at 79's. This felt more like he'd taken a good blow or two to the head. He rubbed under his eyes and willed the headache away, then pushed himself to his feet and made his way toward the barracks. The click of his boots on the smooth floor was rhythmic enough to calm his frazzled nerves.

His mind drifted to the recent sabacc game between Ahsoka and Jesse and for a moment, his headache faded. Jesse was a cheater, but Ahsoka would be all the better for his underhanded tactics and-

That only made his headache worse, and he muttered a few curses under his breath. He had closed his eyes for just a moment, pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some of the pressure- only to walk straight into an unsuspecting Ahsoka. The padawan had jumped a good three feet away from him in her surprise, only to stand up when she recognized him and laugh.

"Rex! What are you doing?"

"Barracks," he answered simply, gesturing to nothing in particular. "It's almost lights out, Commander."

She pursed her lips, eyes drifting up to the ceiling and then back down to Rex. "Barracks are that way, Rexster. Remember?" Her tone was light and full of her unique brand of merriment.

The Commander was _teasing_ him, he realized, suddenly indignant. _Of course_ he knew where the barracks were. The Resolute wasn't a particularly difficult ship to navigate. He scowled, but his rigid soldier's posture loosened as he relaxed. "I knew that, Commander. I _have_ served aboard General Skywalker's flagship for some time," he reminded her.

Ahsoka glanced over her shoulder. "Leave something in the hangar, then?"

"What?" His scowl deepened, accentuating the lines of his face. _The hangar?_ "I wasn't looking for the hangar."

"Well that's the hangar," she said, her voice softening in concern. "Rex?"

 _That can't be right..._ Rex rubbed his eyes hard, until stars sprinkled across his vision. He really needed to get some sleep. And maybe some painkillers, if he could remember. He worked out a response, talking much too fast. "Just worn out. Sorry, Commander. I'll be on my way."

" _Hey!_ " Ahsoka groaned and grasped him by his forearm before he could leave. "Something's up. You okay?"

His head was pounding hard enough now that Rex pressed the heel of his free hand to his temple in a vain attempt to relieve the pain, wincing. A groan was working its way up his throat.

"Rex? Rex, I think you should visit the medbay. You're _not_ okay." She was fussing over him now, reaching up to lay her hand against his forehead, peering deeply into his eyes, pressing her knuckles against the side of his throat. Her actions were ones of genuine concern, her grip on his forearm becoming a gentle caress. "Come on, I'm sure we can find a med-droid to check on you."

He shook his head. "I'm alright," he said after a moment. "Just a headache," Rex insisted, but Ahsoka was having none of it.

"This is an _order_ , Captain." Her gaze softened then, and she patted his chest plate affectionately. "You don't need to suffer in silence just to keep up your image. The med-droid will help you."

Rex was too exhausted to protest and Ahsoka was too stubborn to let him get out of this. He exhaled sharply and nodded in acquiescence. That seemed to be enough for Ahsoka, who tightened her grip on his arm once more and led him back the way he'd come, toward the medbay. Rex could feel the faint nudge of her force probing- he didn't need any kind of sensitivity to feel her frenetic energy, and Rex suddenly felt guilty for making her worry. This whole night had been a mess for him, and now that mess had spread to Ahsoka.

The _Resolute_ was mostly clear of infantry, with only a few personnel milling about or transferring from station to station. The med-bay was equally deserted, save for one or two troopers who were being kept on bed rest for the entirety of the _Resolute's_ night-cycle.

Ahsoka guided him to sit on one of the vacant beds while she fetched the on duty med-droid. Thankfully, the bay's lighting was dimmed for the night-cycle, dark enough to be soothing to his eyes without him having to keep them shut. Rex had had headaches before, usually caused by head wounds. But even they had never been this bad. He looked up as Ahsoka returned, med-droid trailing behind her. Rex swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and edged over to the end of the bed.

"I will only be a moment," said the droid as it pricked his skin through the undersuit for blood, took readings, and peered into his eyes until he felt he might go blind. He'd never gone through such a rigorous check up; not since his childhood on Kamino. "CT-7567 is in perfect health, with a some mild signs of deterioration resultant of rapid aging. Nothing serious or harmful."

He'd almost forgotten about that- the accelerated aging, the early degradation that was present in all clones the moment they hit their tenth, or eleventh if they were lucky. He'd yet to see the aging fully take hold, as most clones were still in their prime, but he had no doubt it would be painful. Not necessarily in a physical manner, but mentally. Going out with only a decade or more of life experience, knowing you'd die long before any potential non-clone friends. It was one of the reasons his brothers were so wary to befriend anyone outside of their own, a fear that they would be condemning anyone who got too close. Rex had never been one to overtly avoid friendship, but the reminder of his age... _hurt_.

Ahsoka's expression was carefully guarded when he glanced at her, focused on the med-droid.

The droid turned around to retrieve something from a cabinet. "I can give you something for the pain, if you would like."

He nodded and the droid approached him once more to inject the painkiller. It was mercifully fast acting, and the ache receded quickly following the injection. A tolerable pressure remained in its stead.

"Let me know if there is anything else you need, CT-7567. I will be tending to my other patients." The droid left them in peace.

Rex slipped off the bed, flashing Ahsoka the smallest of smiles when she looked at him. "See? I'll be fine, Commander."

" _Ahsoka_." She cocked her hips and placed her hands on them. "Cut it out with the Commander stuff. Just _Ahsoka_."

"Alright. I'll be fine, _Ahsoka_."

She humphed. "Just trying to help. I... You were all in pain, and confused, and I thought..."

There was no reason for her to worry so, but he appreciated the thought nonetheless. This was Ahsoka, after all; compassionate, as a Jedi should be. "You heard the droid; I'm perfectly healthy clone." _With some deterioration_ , the droid had said. But anyone his physical age would begin to deteriorate the same way. Just much slower, he supposed. "We should get some sleep, Ahsoka. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait!" She hopped over to stand beside him. "I'll come with you. Just in case."

He laughed.

* * *

That morning was an unofficial day off until the General called on them. Lance rose with his brothers- and was, apparently, a minute too late as Tumble had graciously informed him. With a stretch, he rolled off his bunk and pulled on his boots as quickly as he could as not to keep his squadmates waiting. Together, they made for the mess hall, chatting loudly all the way.

It was easier this way, to go from place to place in a group. Non-clone officers aboard the ship had a habit of giving loners strange looks, but had never said why- Lance had always assumed they were still weirded out by the similar looking soldiers and trying to see if there were any physical abnormalities to show that they weren't just the same man.

"- _he_ challenged _me_!"

"You didn't give him much reason not to, Stitch."

"Yeah," Stitch sniffed, "but he's a shiny! I thought there was a rule against that? 'No brawling until you've earned your stripes'?"

"Technically, he'd be earning his stripes by beating you," reminded Throttle. "You know the rules. He has _every_ right."

It was true. One of the many things Lance had picked up from the 501st troopers was that formally challenging a brother to a fight was encouraged. It let off steam, and troopers involved generally came out of it clearer and more focused. It strengthened bonds and, in some cases, helped a shiny earn the right to paint his armor, or mark his skin.

"Throttle's got a point," Tumble observed, slinging an arm around his agitated brother. "First you get challenged by a shiny, then you get shown up by one. Day's not going well for you, huh Stitch?"

"Agh, get off!"

Tumble cackled and shoved his brother playfully, then snapped his fingers. "That reminds me." He looked over at Lance. "You need your stripes, little brother. That was your third mission, right?"

Lance nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching and eventually lifting into a smile. "It was. The general was there and everything." If this was concerning said mission, Lance would be glad to describe every detail to his brothers. It had gone remarkably well, and both he and Throttle had come home with honors. A shiny's honors, much less in value than a veterans, but honors were honors and he carried them with pride.

"A doozy, right?"

He nodded again.

"Well, I've been thinking-"

"This isn't about Switcher, is it?" Stitch interjected, taking interest now that the attention wasn't on him. "Tumble, don't. Switcher will ruin our poor brother's face, and _you'll_ be the one talking to the Captain for letting him get away with it."

"Shut it. Switcher's a good brother, he just needs some practice. And this shiny here is in need of his stripes."

Lance found that he did _not_ like the sound of that, not at all. But it wasn't like he could escape, now that Tumble's arms were around him, holding tight and keeping him at the enthusiastic trooper's side. He cast a pleading glance to Throttle, who remained impassive as ever.

"Just painting my armor would be fine," Lance said, now a bit nervous.

"Nonsense!" Tumble shook his head. "It's a rite of passage for the 501st- no on will take you seriously until you've got something to make you... _you_!"

"We're here. Come on, I'm hungry. And I heard they were serving a little something _extra_ after the last mission." Stitch winked at Lance and left the rest of them behind find his place in the serving line.

It was protein squares and slop this day, with the addition of something Lance suspected was bread. It was sweet, too, and considerably more palatable than the rest of the meal. Well, if that was the reward for completing a successful mission, then he'd be certain to volunteer for the next. If the General would have him, that is. Lance chewed thoughtfully as his closest brothers joined him at the table.

"I saw Captain Rex a few minutes ago, looking kind of pale." Stitch twirled his utensil around his fingers and adopted his professional medic's voice. "Those outer rim planets are _full_ of bugs."

Lance furrowed his brow as he searched the mess hall for the Captain. Rex _did_ look a little pale, and a tad bit wobbly as he stood among his brothers of Torrent.

"He got shot," Lance said eventually. "In the shoulder. Kix fixed him up though."

Stitch swiveled around to face him. "Did he? Well, Kix _is_ the best of the best. Even if he _did_ -"

"This is _not_ a place for gossip." Another trooper joined them, his facial markings easily recognizable to Lance. Sergeant Sharpe, looking every bit as threatening as he had when Lance first met him. His voice was deeper than average, and coarse like sand. "Leave the Captain _alone_."

Stitch blanched. "Yes sir, sorry sir."

"Now," Sharpe settled into the vacant spot beside Lance, and Lance couldn't help but lean away. "I heard about the base. A virus, right? Torrent's medic wants everyone on that mission in the med-bay for a checkup, just in case you were exposed to anything." The sergeant leaned forward a bit to catch Lance's eyes. "I expect you there after gym. Understood?"

"Yessir." Lance acknowledged Sharpe with a swift salute.

Sharpe flashed a smile. "Good! I'll be on my way, then." He patted Lance's shoulder hard and stood, fixing each trooper with ' _the look_ ', as Tumble had called it, before leaving them alone.

Tumble whistled, almost appreciatively. "Sergeant's strict, but he's good. You ought to finish up, Lance. Get your gym time in before Kix gets finicky."

"I think I will," Lance said. "I'll see you later." He left the table, dumped his tray, and made his way toward the exit. He'd only met Kix a handful of times, and the medic had proven himself to be friendly, if a bit quiet. But like every clone trooper, Lance despised doctor's visits. He silently prayed to whoever answered to clones that Kix wouldn't get _too_ invasive.

* * *

Kix flexed his hand, ran it along the edge of the table in an attempt to regain feeling. The movement sent a freezing chill up his arm, and then nothing- he was numb. Cold fear shot up his spine. A medic who couldn't use their hands was no good medic at all, and any physically defective clone was up for extermination if they were found incapable of performing their duties. He swallowed his curses and retrieved his medscanner from the desk and ran it over his forearm.

 _Nerve cell degradation. No injury or damage found._

He ran it again.

 _Nerve cell degradation. No injury or damage found._

His hand trembled. A dozen solutions flashed behind his eyes; amputation and replacement, invasive surgical repair that would surely be overtaken by the decay- and thus entirely pointless, so he ruled that out. Nerve regeneration with foreign cells to combat his infected ones. All temporary solutions to an apparent long-term problem. This would not do.

The door behind him slid open to reveal Rex, Fives, the shinies, and a few other clones he'd summoned; a simple health inspection and a way for him to be sure nobody was infected with anything malicious from the dead 41st veterans. Kix put on an expression of cool professionalism and approached his brothers.

"Good, you're here," he said. "Thought I'd have to embarrass you over comm."

"My company already knows," Lance said with a shrug of his shoulders. "No big deal. Nothing too big, I hope, sir?"

Kix shook his head. "Just the standard, plus a few examinations of my own to be sure you're not contaminated with anything." Kix took his medscanner and, now that it was't pointed at himself, he felt a little more at east. He could hide the numbness, for now. "I'll get to you in a second, Captain. Shiny?"

Lance puffed up in indignation, but did as told and jumped up on the medical table. Kix ran the scanner over the entirety of his body and it came up clean. "Arm, please." Lance held out his arm and Kix drew blood, then ran it through the scanner. There was certainly something there, but it was dormant and appeared to be a distant strain of flu. He'd give the shiny something to keep it away later. "You appear uncontaminated. Feeling woozy?"

"A bit hot lately-"

"Flu. Stick around and I'll give you something."

The shiny's eyes flew wide in surprise and Kix smiled at the reaction. Such a typical reaction from a shiny to an experienced medic such as Kix.

When the shiny got off the table, Fives patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it, kid." He then leaned in conspiratorially. "Medics. Know. _Everything_."

Next was Rex, who looked uncharacteristically subdued. Kix went through the motions again, running the scanner over the Captain and drawing blood. "How are feeling, Captain?" he asked as he waited for the results to come through.

"Fine."

"I need specifics to go off of, Captain."

"Fatigued," he answered. "What've you got?"

The scanner beeped and Kix looked it over. _Cellular degradation. No injury or damage found_. Kix frowned. "Fives? Do me a favor and head on out with the others. I need to talk to the Captain in private."

Fives looked peeved but did as asked and led the other troopers out of the medbay to await their summons. Kix turned to Rex and shoved the scanner's view screen toward him.

"Tired, numb, and maybe a bit tingly? Confused?" he asked and he searched the Captain's eyes for a reaction.

"I had trouble finding the barracks last night," Rex said, brows furrowed as he shifted unsteadily on the medical table. "Can't feel my shoulder." He rolled his damaged left shoulder, which was likely scarred underneath his armor and bodysuit.

They shared similar symptoms, and that worried Kix immensely. Perhaps there had been something in the lab they had accidentally exposed them to? His mind went straight to the decaying bodies they'd found in the cells, which had begun to breakdown faster than they should have. Kix had found no physical marks on his skin or the Captain's, but the decay _was_ there. That was his first clue. The Separatists had been up to something, and whatever it was made anger well up like hot fire in his chest.

"This big, Captain. Really big. Is anyone else sharing these symptoms?"

Rex pursed his lips and became thoughtful. "Not that I know of." Speaking seemed to have taken a lot of him, as he slumped and looked a little more pale than he should have.

"I need to take these results to medlab immediately, and- Captain, Captain are you okay?" Kix moved to Rex's shoulder just as he collapsed onto his side, sparing him a bruise to the temple. "Captain!"

No matter how much Kix shook or called, Rex did not wake. Seeking support, Kix turned to the door and called for his brothers.


	3. Disease of the Mind

_As you can see, the beginning of this chapter is the end of chapter two, but it fit better in here. I felt it was moving too fast and everything was happening too abruptly, so I replaced it with the scene with Kix and moved this here. The story will flow much better now. Sorry for the rearranging._

 _Chapter four is on its way. If you get any updates for earlier chapters, I just realized some errors and fixed them._

* * *

Rex woke in fits and starts, choking on his own tongue at first then gradually working his way up to full awareness.

To his left he heard voices, soft and concerned, to his right the beeping of a monitor. His head hurt faintly. A vague sharpness prodded behind his eyes. Below his left knee was a similar ache, muffled behind a haze of different pain relieving drugs pumped into him from a mask over his mouth and nose. Rex didn't dare move for fear of pulling out the leads in his forearm, and half because he didn't exactly want to engage consciously with anyone else.

 _They can wait_ , he thought dazedly, trying to put names and faces with the word. The voices had started arguing.

"I'm sure they can figure out what's going on, Ahsoka."

A scoff. "It's not that, Master. But you _know_ they don't view the clones the same way we do- they're just expendable to them! They'd tear Rex inside out trying to find the cause with no concern toward his wellbeing!

"You really think that?"

"I don't just think. Master, please."

Rex felt his eyelids ungluing, feeling finally return to the tips of his fingers just enough that he could move them. They flexed and curled against the sheets as he fought to focus his eyes and make sense of his surroundings. Ahsoka and Anakin were standing near the door, but he'd only begun to comprehend the later half of their discussion before the two were by his side.

"Rex! You awake?" Ahsoka questioned.

His voice was croaking and gravely at first, his throat too dry, but he managed. "'M fine," he rasped, focusing hard on the wall until his eyes decided to obey him. "What happened?"

"You passed out," Anakin stated plainly. "Now you're here. Any idea why?"

He cleared his throat with a rough cough, and Ahsoka offered him water that he accepted gratefully. "No," he said. "What I mean to say is... I'm not sure." He couldn't... _remember_. His mind had been far too muddled for him to recall it clearly. Nausea welled up in his stomach as he remembered what he could of the sensation; the feeling of his limbs vanishing one by one, until all there was was noise... and then nothing.

"He had a headache," Ahsoka answered for him. "I took him to see the med-droid and it said he was fine."

Anakin ran a hand through his hair and leaned up against the far wall, crossing his arms across his chest. "And the bodies?" he asked, seemingly trying his best to avoid Rex's confused gaze.

 _The dead 41st? What did they have to do with this?_

"MD and Kix want to see if Rex is going through what the 41st troopers went through."

"If they find what killed those troopers, have the droid run them both through again."

"And if nothing changes?"

"Run it through _again_." Anakin was looking at Ahsoka sympathetically, his normally vibrant blue eyes pale and glassy. "We'll figure it out. Get that, Rex? You'll be fine. Don't let Miss Sourpuss here ruin your time off."

"Not a problem, sir," Rex said.

Anakin left them alone quirked a brow but made space for Ahsoka to get close. The awkward silence was deafening and Rex just wanted to go back to sleep, but he couldn't think of any polite way to ask for Ahsoka to leave.

Rex shifted in his bed once more to make himself comfortable, letting his head rest back on the pillow. _Broken, no good clone who can't even keep healthy_. Huh. He didn't even know he had a flair for cynicism. He shut it down and let himself stew in his own thoughts and the mix of chemicals going straight to his brain. It wasn't _his_ fault. He hadn't touched the bodies. Other than the shot to his chest - which was healing nicely, Kix had said - he _should_ have been fine. What happened?

"MD's taking samples from the bodies. He's going to run them in comparison to yours to see if you're going through the same thing that..." Ahsoka was wringing her hands nervously and Rex wanted to take them, make her stop, settle her anxieties and reassure the padawan. But his arms were hardly responding, and so he settled with hoping she'd meet his eyes.

"We'll figure this out," she said, finally making eye contact. "What?"

"You're worrying. What did I say about worrying?"

She glared at him petulantly, a spark of disbelief in her eyes. "That was about _Anakin_ , not you. _You're_ sick."

He tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a breathy hiss than anything. "And?"

"And you're not him! Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

"This! Passing everything off as if it's not a big deal. You're almost as bad as my Master."

"Hm," he nodded in agreement. "Generals do rub off on their men, Ahsoka. Our General is just _especially_ flaky."

Rex knew Ahsoka could never stay mad at him for long. She could be forgiving when she wanted to, especially when it came to him and the General. It was one of her greatest qualities, superseded only by her compassion.

The door into the medbay beeped and slid open to reveal a handful of perturbed troopers in various states of dress and decorum, with Fives up front and marching in the moment he gained entry. He was clearly concerned, but kept that concern hidden by a thick wall of faux-anger. Rex couldn't hold back the inevitable exhale. _There was to be no rest for him now_.

"You have any idea, _Captain_ ," Fives began, "how worried we were for you? Tup _cried!_ How could you do that to him?"

Tup gasped in offense and glared hard at the ARC's armored back. Jesse snorted.

"I tried to stop them from barging in, but they were insistent," Kix said apologetically.

"I don't _need_ to listen when our Captain is bedridden because he passed out in the middle of a standard checkup. What happened?"

Rex shut his eyes for a long moment, willing the resurgence of nausea to pass. "I guess we're figuring that out now." He shifted against the pillows at his back, and let Ahsoka help him get comfortable.

Fives had a strange way of showing it, but he cared. Lighthearted banter, a few good-natured taunts. He was one of the most honest troopers Rex had ever known, with a loyalty to his brothers no Jedi could stand in the way of. The ARC training had given him perspective, calmed him some, but it hadn't managed to take his spirit.

Rex's lips quirked in a pleasant smile, then evened out as got back to business. "You shouldn't be here. It could be contagious, and I don't want any of you getting it."

"Commander Cody seemed perfectly fine when he visited," said Jesse.

"I don't think I saw him breathe," Hardcase mentioned. "Real weird."

"Cody was here?" Rex looked to Ahsoka, who only shrugged.

"Mhmm," Fives leaned against the metal railing of Rex's hospital bed. "He's concerned. So's General Kenobi. _Everyone's_ worried about you, Captain. You're killing us here."

"There's no need." He would insist until his brothers gave up, but they were _stubborn_. They'd likely not be leaving his sight until he was completely cleared and ready for duty. That was sure to put a crick in his neck.

Before anything more could be said, the med-droid returned with a datapad, flicking through its contents. Rex couldn't restrain a flicker of dread as it approached his bedside.

"I have run a full analysis on CT-6264 and CT-7567's blood samples, and it turned up something... most distressing."

This was it, then. Rex tensed and, out of the corner of his eye, so did Ahsoka and his brothers. Either he was on the track to a quick death, or this 'illness' had rendered him defunct and he'd be sent straight to Kamino for termination. He felt his headache return full force, mixing with his fear and nausea to make him wish he was unconscious once more.

The droid continued. "Their DNA show signs of rapid decay, resulting in the breakdown of internal tissues. Comparing this clone's blood to samples gathered from the deceased has shown a contagion, entirely artificial and related to no others in our database." It looked up to gauge their reactions, waiting for responses or denials. But when none came, it continued. "As of now, there is nothing for us to do- there is no cure for aging. Bacta treatment to slow the degradation and help cellular reproduction is the only treatment option at this time."

Contemplative silence filled the room like thick fog. Then, Ahsoka began speaking.

"If it slows down the decay long enough for us to find a cure, then we should do it." When he looked at her, Rex saw the hard set of her jaw and the tight curl of her fists, and knew this to be frustrated _fear_.

"Ask Rex want he wants to do," Anakin said as he turned to Rex. His face was carefully blank. "Rex?"

Did he want that? To be left immobile in a bacta tank for who knew how long? The cynical half of him wondered why they hadn't simply carted him off to Kamino. It would save time and a tank that could be used for someone much more important than him. On the other hand, his deeply buried fear of death was rousing its head for the first time in a decade. The corners of his lips twitched in distress. "I... is this a good idea?" _What a stupid question, Rex old boy. You're going senile already._

The droid _whirred_. "For you, CT-7567, yes. We can set up dates for your extraction to take samples, and monitor the spread during submersion." It handed him a datapad describing the treatment plan in detail. "The longer you remain alive, the more we can work on the antidote. If you regain full consciousness, then our work was successful."

"Rex please. Just... consider it," Ahsoka pleaded as she stepped closer to his bed.

Fives peered around her shoulder and gave him a firm nod. The sentiment was clearly echoed around the room and Rex suddenly felt cornered. Supported and cared for in a way that seemed utterly alien.

Rex took a few relaxing breaths to calm his nerves. "Alright. I'll do it." The elation that filled the room was almost tangible, undercut only by the lingering fear for the future. "If it'll help you find a way to stop it," _-for his brothers-_ "then I'll do it."

"Very well," the droid said. "A tank will be ready for you within the next few hours. I suggest making all goodbyes now- you may not have the chance later." With that, the droid drifted off and left Rex alone with his General, his Commander, and a handful of his brothers.

Anakin's face was guarded as he fidgeted. Ahsoka looked fearful and a tad uncomfortable- whether because he was dying, or because this was not a situation she'd been trained for. His brothers looked impassive and exhausted, but he managed to catch Tup's assuring smile. He tried to return the gesture, but only managed a pained grimace.

Anakin moved forward and placed a heavy hand on Rex's shoulder. "I've been in one of those before- I'll make sure they get it right." Rex nodded appreciatively and Anakin left.

"We'll keep you company if you want, Captain," Jesse said. "Sabacc? I have a new kit to bet-"

"We _all_ have one of-" Tup began, but was quickly cut off by Fives slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"I've something better. Hey, Captain. Coghead here needs a good lesson in fair play." Five hopped up on his toes to glare over Tup's head at Jesse. Jesse responded with a cheeky smile. "And we all know you're the best. Jus' 'till you get dragged away for the tank, huh?"

Rex closed his eyes. He was only decent at sabacc, nowhere near as good as Fives, but Rex accepted the flattery. Maybe the ARC was just trying to make him feel better, and it was working. "Sabacc? Weren't you teaching the Commander, Jesse?" He looked at the younger trooper, then at Ahsoka. Ahsoka looked mighty pleased with herself, and Jesse exuded pride.

"Sure did, sir. Didn't I, Commander?"

"He did," Ahsoka said. "I'm still practicing, but I'm getting good. I could use the extra practice..." She eyed him imploringly, and Rex found he couldn't reject her.

Rex forced himself to sit up, and said, "Who brought the cards?"

* * *

"I'm out," Tup huffed.

"Sorry, Tup, but I _am_ a master," Jesse gloated. He gathered is winnings toward him, expression alight with glee.

Rex had called it quits halfway through and had relegated himself to an advisory position at Ahsoka's side. The togruta was decent at the game, catching many of Jesse's tactics before he got a chance to use them and using her own to counteract him. It was remarkably genius of her. She cast her winning cards and left Jesse slack-jawed and wide-eyed as his brain tried to process what she'd done, only for him to suddenly swell with indignation and confusion and, inevitably, wilt in defeat.

Jesse slumped and pushed his winnings toward the padawan, head lowered in respect. "Oh great Jedi," he implored dramatically, "teach me your ways."

"Sorry, Jesse," Ahsoka said. She patted his shoulder. "Masters don't reveal their tricks to padawans until they're ready." She smiled sweetly at him and gathered the credits and other assorted trinkets into her arms. "Oh, don't be so down about it."

"Yeah, Jesse. Don't be so down. Someday, you'll be just as good as the Commander!" Fives pulled his unsuspecting brother into a headlock, patting him affectionately on the head.

"Argh, get off!"

Rex scooted away from the table as the two tussled. He shared a look with Ahsoka, who shrugged and worded ' _They're your brothers_ '. He tugged the mask around his mouth a little to fix its position. Though they weren't sure yet how it was transmitted, the droid had suggested he wear a covering of some sort, just in case.

Troopers were filling into the barracks now, waving occasionally before they conked out on their bunks. It was a funny thing, sometimes, to watch the younger troopers burst with delight when their notorious Commander or Captain acknowledge them. He'd heard rumors of whispers relayed through Fives or Jesse about the honors of being noticed individually by 501st command. Such a grand honor it was that they'd strut about for several days afterward, and performed significantly better than their squadmates on any missions that happened within that time.

Rex and Ahsoka both knew of this and were quick to take advantage. The genuine appreciation by the troopers was a plus.

"Captain! Sir, a droid's here, askin' for you." A trooper approached and stood at attention.

Droid. The meddroid, then. Rex felt his brothers' gazes on his back, hard and curious, anxiety giving the air a thick, heady quality.

They were worried, he realized, suddenly uncomfortable. They'd let their game sidetrack them and take their minds off of the inevitable. He'd let the game sidetrack him when he was supposed to be preparing. How he was to go about doing that, Rex wasn't sure, but it would have been nice to do a little research on bacta immersion.

"I'll see you all on the other side, then." Rex pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. Ahsoka helped him, and his brothers stood nearby to offer their comfort in the form of just _being_ there.

Ahsoka let him go and waved goodbye before slinking back toward the table. She wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"Good luck, brother," Fives said, and by the looks on the other's faces, they shared the same sentiment.

"You'll be alright, Captain," Kix assured him. "I'll check in when I can."

"We all will. Promise." Tup clasped his hand behind him.

Jesse only nodded vigorously in agreement, and that was enough for Rex.

The droid escorted him out of the barracks and straight to the medbay, where a single tank was ready and waiting. Coric was there, standing off to the side. The medic turned and greeted him with a wave, but otherwise did not approach. Possible contagious virus. _Right_.

"We'll get you in in just a moment, Rex." Not Captain. Rex. He didn't realize how badly he needed to hear his name.

Rex looked at the tank apprehensively. "I won't be aware, then?" The idea of being aware while floating inside a tank full of sticky bacta was not appealing in the least. Anakin had mentioned it felt like swimming in thick, highly pressurized water that got _everywhere_. He hadn't gone into detail, but Rex had caught the gist and hoped he'd never have to suffer that. He felt a poke in the side of his neck and the release of something that washed away his anxiety.

The droid disposed of the hypo and hovered over a panel of monitoring equipment, adjusting medical tools on their racks. They looked more like weapons than medical contraptions, and reeked of antiseptic that reminded Rex of Kamino. "No," the droid assured him. "You may occasionally wake, but you will not be _conscious_. We will be able to monitor your brain activity throughout the process, and you will be kept sedated when we remove you for samples. There is nothing for you to fear."

 _Except dying in my sleep_ , Rex thought. "Let's get this over with, then. What do I do?"

"Lie down, please."

He did as instructed and stretched out on the medical bed. The droid inserted a line into the crook of his elbow, which pumped a cool liquid into his veins. His eyelids were already drifting shut, too heavy to hold open.

"Just relax, Rex," Coric said. "You won't feel any pain or discomfort. Kix and I will watch over you and make sure you come out of his healthier than when you went in."

"Mm." Rex's tongue was too thick to form words, so they came out sloppy and mispronounced. "See you," he said lazily, as if he were to meet his brother the next day, and not going into a deep sleep.

He supposed that's exactly what he was doing. His last scraps of consciousness wished he'd asked a little more about this procedure, and then they, too, dissolved into nothingness.

* * *

Ahsoka sat in her quarters and listened to the hum of the _Resolute's_ engines.

Rex was her friend, and she hadn't even said goodbye. What kind of person ran away from a friend in need? What kind of friend hoped the actions of a few brothers were enough to fill their place? Ahsoka bit hard into her lower lip and fought back the guilt seething in her belly, knowing she wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. Or tomorrow. Her cabin was too empty and devoid of the warmth she'd shared in the barracks-

That's it! The barracks. Rex had once mentioned the men _adored_ her company. They'd be willing to make a place for her this night, wouldn't they? Just until she had accepted Rex's temporary absence. Fives would surely keep her up all night simply to enjoy the novelty, but she'd be so much more comfortable than here in her cabin, alone.

She made her decision. Waiting until complete lights-out, Ahsoka sneaked from her room and made her way down the hall to the barracks. Once she slipped inside, she was met with a drowsy trooper pacing the floor.

He looked up and squinted in the dim lighting, then his eyes went wide and he snapped off a salute. "Commander!" It came out as a hoarse, loud whisper, and she flinched.

"It's alright," she sad, holding out her hands palms forward. "I'm just... any extra bunks?"

The trooper stared at her, perplexed. "Bunks, sir? Why?"

"My cabin's too... quiet."

"Oh," the trooper seemed understanding, nodding seriously. "I think so, second row in the center. I've never seen anyone use it, anyway. Sir."

"We're not on duty, so no need for formalities," she said. "I've... never seen you around before. What's your name?"

"Ah, Dent." She caught the slight hiss of an _s_ , but the trooper caught himself. "My name is Dent."

She smiled sweetly at him and made for the rows of bunks, moving with a jedi-quiet so the others wouldn't wake. "Thanks, Dent." She found the bunk, its position little skewed in comparison to the others, but it looked comfortable enough. She settled down onto it and relaxed, finding peace in the quiet mutterings of the clones around her.

At some point, just as she began to drift off, a very distinct voice reached her ears.

"The Commander's here? Why didn't anybody tell me?!"


	4. Dominos

Ahsoka entered the mess hall, breathing in the familiar scent of warm Republic rations and the musk of sleepy clones fresh from the showers. Gossip traveled notoriously fast among clones, the 501s especially. Distress fluctuated throughout the Force and yet the clones, fully aware of what was happening to their Captain, were calm. It was strangely comforting to know that she wasn't the only one fearing for Rex's health; the whole 501st depended on, respected, and _loved_ their Captain. They were likely as eager as she was to learn what was happening, and she was surprised to see none of them approach her for news.

Thinking better than to fill up on a suddenly sick stomach, Ahsoka instead sidled up between Fives and Tup at one of the tables nearest the exit. The two troopers scooted apart to make space for the small togruta to fit comfortably into.

"Good to see you, Commander." Fives grinned broadly at the padawan.

Ahsoka looked up and offered Fives a small smile, which she then turned on Tup. "Hey, guys," she said, her voice coming out hoarse and exhausted after a night of tossing and turning. Anxiety had kept her awake most of the night no matter how hard she'd tried to focus on the barracks' natural ambiance. And, of course, Fives had ruined that attempt entirely.

Tup peered curiously at her and set down his utensils, his expression morphing into one of brotherly concern. "You alright there, Commander? You don't look so good."

"I didn't sleep very well," Ahsoka admitted.

"You know what the Captain would say?" Fives said, nudging her gently. "'Stop worrying'. We all know what's going on, Commander. But we've got to keep movin' forward, and let the medics do their thing."

"She has good reason to." Tup leaned forward on his elbows and caught Ahsoka's eyes. "Captain's a tough fekker. As long as Kix 'n' Coric are on the job, he'll be okay."

Ahsoka let the warmth of the troopers seep into her, reveling in the higher natural body heat relax her. Which was an easy feat, considering her exhaustion. A warm breeze would surely knock her out. She let her eyelids droop in contentment. "Does he say that a lot?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Fives observed. "You going to eat that, brother?"

Tup tucked his chin toward his chest in permission and Fives swiped the rest of his brother's fruit.

"As I was saying," Fives said through a mouth full of muja, "Captain wouldn't want you to wear yourself down over him." He swallowed. "And if you need some company, I don't think anyone would mind you in the barracks."

"Just let Dogma know why you're hanging around. He doesn't believe you'd come by for leisure time."

Fives nodded in agreement with his brother. "He's stiff, but he'll warm up. Someday," he added.

"Oh, and consider leaving at mid-cycle. That's gym time."

Ahsoka made an 'O' when realization set in. In her experience, 'gym time' meant two things; one, an entire battalion's worth of half-naked clones, and two, the wretched smell that accompanied humans after hours of exercise and sweating. She'd made the unfortunate mistake of visiting during that time, innocently searching for Rex, when she'd been assaulted by a wall of very, very naked, and very, very sweaty, men.

She'd been young at the time, and had frozen on the spot until Rex noticed her and ordered the men to dress before heading to the showers. Rex had steered her out of there before she'd had much time to process what she was seeing. She could still feel the flush.

Ahsoka replicated the motions she'd seen the clones do and patted her left shoulder a little awkwardly, thanking Tup in his own language. There were many more nonverbal ques for her to learn, and the clones seemed only too happy to lend a hand, but for now, a smile and a thanks were all she knew. Tup tucked in his chin in approval, and went back to his breakfast.

"Maybe I'll do that," she said. "And then check on Rex. _Just in case_." Her words became harried when Tup pinned her with a hard gaze, one brow quirked.

Fives swiveled so that he straddled the bench, facing her. He leaned casually against the table. "Lay off, brother. Let the Commander do her thing. In the meanwhile," he tugged on the tight fabric of his undersuit, "I need a shower."

With a roll of his eyes, Tup sniffed and pretended to gag. "I thought something died."

Fives' Force signature flared with outrage, undercut by a hint of playful aggression. It was a familiar feeling that often pervaded the gym, lifting her mood whenever she visited, but it always led to a fight of some kind. A spar, they assured her. Letting out aggression without actually causing injury, and bonding while they were at it. Punching each other to bond must be a clone thing, she figured. Ahsoka lowered her head to stay out of the line of fire.

"That's what you think?" The ARC slammed his hands down on the table, resulting in a loud bang that cut off half the conversation in the mess. "You and me. Right now."

Tup's eyes widened humorously. "I don't know, Fives. Your face is already ugly as it is."

"Guys." Ahsoka glanced furtively over her shoulder and made eye contact with a few curious clones, who were now looking their way. " _Guys_."

"My ugly mug is your ugly mug, brother."

" _Guys_!"

"Sorry, Commander, but ya gotta teach baby brothers to respect their elders at some point." He didn't seem to notice, or care about, the stares of his brothers, and steamrolled on. "You're embarrassing the Commander, Tup! Get over here." Sliding from his seat, Fives rounded on Tup, grabbed him by the forearm, and tugged him away toward the gym before Ahsoka could get a word in edgewise.

When they were gone, Ahsoka sat in utter bewilderment and cringed at the sudden silence that pervaded the room once the two were gone. _What just happened?_

"Is a fight going on?" Asked the gleeful voice of a shiny, stark against the silence of the mess hall.

"You sure bet there is!" The trooper she recognized as Hardcase launched himself down the hall toward the gym at full tilt, a handful of exuberant shinies hot on his heels. The remaining troopers watched in amusement for several before going back to their meals as if nothing had happened.

Ahsoka felt the bench beside her shift under new weight.

"All things considered, that was pretty tame."

"Shut up, Jesse."

"Yes sir!"

* * *

Rex's blue-tinted visage was surreal to Kix. His face was concealed behind an oxygen mask, stark against unnaturally pale skin and hair that looked platinum under the overhead lights. The hard lines of his face looked deeper. He seemed weary. But Rex was Rex; the perfect Captain to Anakin's General, full of raw, invigorating energy.

If the Captain were easily fatigued, Kix's armor would have been melted down for the next shiny, and he himself would be long gone.

In all, he owed the Captain everything. He could never repay Rex in his short life, but he could make sure his brother made it to the end of his lifespan. Make sure his death was an honorable one on the field, where he belonged. Where they all belonged.

"Kid's digestive system is failing. Help me load up an IV."

Kix flexed the numb stiffness out of his fingers and helped Coric insert an IV into Lance's tank through an access port, snaking it through and into the crook of the shiny's arm. He was no better off than Rex, but his younger age was working for him. Better natural repairs, a more versatile immune system. His lack of sustenance was likely the contributing cause to the failure.

"Rex is looking good, mostly. His heart's having trouble healing, but," Coric scrolled on his datapad, "I don't think they decay's gotten there yet. Bacta's helping."

Rex's heart had failed during submersion, an unintended effect of the sedation. The stress on his body caused by the decay had sapped his energy, even if he hadn't yet shown it. Some stutters and abnormalities persisted, but he'd pull through. Kix hoped, anyway.

Kix rubbed his hands over his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh. He hadn't slept, and his entire body had slowly gone tingly and numb. Weakness was setting in in his forearms. The stims would only last for so long before he crashed and…

No. Coric couldn't know. Kix had to help Rex- he _had_ to.

"You alright, Kix?" Coric asked.

Kix ran a hand over the soft bristles of his hair. He'd need a trim soon. "Got a lot running around in my head," he assured his brother. "Did you hear from the 41st?"

"They got 'em. Those vets had some close brothers who are thankful for their return."

"You didn't tell them?"

Coric frowned. "No. General Skywalker wants us to keep this tight until we've got an idea of what it is." He leaned up against the wall beside the monitors, face drawn. "I think he mentioned conferring with the other Generals on the matter."

It made sense. They were remarkable soldiers, capable of handling stress far beyond that of average men. But even then, there would always be a lingering dread among the clones. Just enough to unsettle the ranks, make them wonder.

Kix wondered how much trouble the General and Commander were going through to keep this within the 501st.

"C'mon, Kix. It's time for a bit of rest, don't you think?" Coric smiled warmly at Kix.

"I don't know," Kix said, looking up at the two tanks. "I don't think a contingent of highly trained medical personnel could handle this."

"Can't get any brothers to transfer, Kix. You know that. Just let the MDs do their job while you and I get a bite to eat."

When Kix looked at Coric, he could see the faint circles developing under the other medic's eyes. He ran a hand over his buzz once more out of nervous habit. "I need to take care of a few things around here. I'll meet you at mess?"

"Hmph." Coric shrugged. "Alright. But don't leave me to chow alone."

"Patience is a medic's greatest virtue," Kix chirped. "I'm not hungry just yet, anyway."

"Eh, don't turn that virtue stuff on me, Kix. I get you."

Kix snorted as Coric left. He went over the monitors one more time. Rex's heart rate was unsteady, but it held strong and and slow as a new round of sedatives were pumped into his system.

Smiling privately to himself, Kix set his pad beside Coric's and left the droids to their work.

Predictably, Jesse was the first to meet him in the mess hall, eyes curious as he strode forward. Kix had been hoping to keep progress between himself and Coric, but it was only a matter of time before Torrent began to demand answers and updates.

"How is he?"

Kix exited the line with his tray and took a seat at Torrent's usual place. He poked absently at a piece of unidentifiable meat. "For now," he said. "Keep this quiet, you understand, Jesse? Don't… don't spread it around."

Jesse hesitated, then nodded slowly.

"Coric and I ran some tests on the Captain and the new kid, Lance. It's like this… this virus is speeding up the natural decay of their cells. In some places, it's outright destroying them." He paused to take a breath and felt Jesse's hand on his shoulder. A small act of comfort that Kix found himself leaning into, and Jesse accommodated by slinging his arm about his shoulders.

"So, not aging?"

"More like dying while they're still alive."

They sat in silence while Jesse processed the new information.

"Can you stop it?"

"I don't know," Kix said. His food had gone cold, and so had his appetite. "The destruction of cells, maybe, but the aging… Coric thinks genetic rewriting might do the trick. But that means Kamino."

"Oh." Jesse dropped his hands onto the table, vambraces clanking hard against it. "They can do that?"

"Reconditioning," he answered simply.

Jesse's eyes widened. "I thought-"

"So did I, until I saw them for myself. In especially 'rebellious' cases," Kix said bitterly, his brows casting shadows over his eyes.

Jesse shifted on his seat and when Kix turned to look at him and gauge his reaction, was not meeting his eyes.

"He's pulled through worse," Jesse said, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "And he'll get us through worse when this is all over. I know he will. Fives knows it, Tup knows it. The whole 501st has faith in him."

"Yeah," Kix murmured. "But does the Commander?"

Jesse snapped his jaw shut and fixed Kix with a wary gaze. "What are you saying?"

"Commander Tano checked in this morning, but she didn't stay for very long. She looked… _scared_ , Jesse."

 _Scared was an understatement_. The young padawan had been mortified and frightened, looking so much younger than she was, jarring compared to Rex's... nothingness. The Commander was young, but Kix had never fully realized _how_ young until that moment.

"I've seen her face a dozen super battle droids without even flinching," Jesse said. "Sure it wasn't something else?"

Kix nodded. "I'm sure. She said something to his tank, I think, then ran off as if a pack of rampaging gundarks were on her heels. It was... well, it was _bizarre_."

" _Commander_ ," Jesse held up one hand, then the other, as if holding invisible weights, "and _bizarre_ do not go in the same sentence."

Kix scowled at his brother. "I've never seen her like that."

"She _is_ young," Jesse said simply. "She and the Captain are like two- what's the saying, again?"

Kix rolled his eyes, but didn't give the trooper an answer. He wasn't as lingo savvy as Jesse. "They're _close_. I knew she'd be worried, she usually is, but this time it was like… she didn't really want to see him. Like it hurt."

"Maybe it did?"

"Not like that, Jesse. How would you feel if I were dying?"

Jesse's eyes dropped and his brow furrowed. His breath came haltingly, as if he was actually thinking of a situation where Kix would not return with him to the Resolute. Jesse's mouth straightened into a hard line as he looked at Kix, eyes dark. "I get what you're saying."

Kix suddenly felt molten guilt pour into his gut for making Jesse consider that. They might not have been clingy, like Fives was around Tup, but they were close, and the idea of losing Jesse made him blanch and curl in on the hollow in his chest. Every brother would pass on eventually, but none of them liked to contemplate their own mortality until it was at the front. Fear could do horrible things to a soldier, like a cornered animal searching for a way out. And a fearful animal couldn't be relied upon to make good decisions.

He tried to push that train off thought out of mind, but it had done its damage. Kix hung his head.

"Sorry."

"S'fine," Jesse mumbled. "I'm watching your back, remember? _Always_."

"I know you are."

They shared a warm, brotherly smile. Kix looked down at his tray and found that most of it was cold, but hunger was gnawing at his stomach now and he'd be wise to satisfy it. He ate just to get his mind off of their conversation, and willed it away. Silence stretched out between them until Jesse slapped him hard on the back and slipped out of his seat, glancing at the chrono on the far wall.

"Times up for me, I'll see you later, Kix," he said. "Oh, and I need another person for our game tonight. Bolo-ball in gym, 1800 on the dot. Up for it?"

At least it wasn't sabacc, which Kix was beginning to loathe. "I'll be there."

Jesse saluted his brother playfully and marched off, leaving Kix alone at his table, left to wonder where Coric had gone off to.

With a heavy sigh, Kix pushed back his tray and let his forehead rest against the cool metal, his hands clasped behind his neck. If the clankers didn't eventually get to him, stress and guilt would. Even a clone designed to withstand stress had a breaking point. Kix was lucky to not have found it yet, but it was inevitable. After the war, during the war- it didn't matter. This entire war would tear them all down eventually.

Some cynical part of him said he wouldn't make it to the end, anyway. 'Stop worrying,' it would say. 'You won't live to see what happens'. Part of him hoped it was right, that he'd die before he had to watch his family struggle and find a new path in life. What use were soldiers with no war to fight?

A weight tilted the bench beside him. "Feeling better now that you've eaten?"

"Thinking about death," Kix said, eyes unfocused and glum. "I don't think food is going to make me feel any better."

Coric grunted and slung an arm around his forlorn brother's shoulder, pulling him in tight for an awkward, but otherwise affectionate, side-hug. "Stop. We weren't trained for death. We were trained to _prevent_ it." He squeezed Kix's shoulder a little too hard, almost in warning. "Don't sulk around and hope everything gets better, work for it. Rex'll be fine with you at his back."

It wasn't what Kix had been worried about, but he appreciated Coric's advice anyway.

"Now. What's the news with Jesse?" Coric asked. He snatched Kix's caf and downed it in one go.

"He invited me to a bolo-ball game. Guess he's short." Kix grimaced at the lack of caf when he reached out for a cup that was no longer there.

"Ah, Jesse can be pretty fickle. Sabacc, wasn't it?" He sniffed. "Wasn't he going to teach the Commander?"

"Yeah," Kix said. "We played, remember? What were _you_ doing?"

"Sleeping," Coric grumbled. "That reminds me. I'm due for more. Two hours of rest between these idiots," he gestured to no one in particular, "and our two infirms. And, uh, one of the shinies broke his ankle. I thought General Skywalker tightened up the rules on hazing?"

 _Hazing_? Kix had heard of no hazing, not amongst the 501st. Their "initiation" rituals were tame in comparison to the other battalions and focused more on earning prestige through actual battle; earning their scuffs and their paint through their actions and proving themselves a capable member. Playful brawls were good way to start, as were doing menial jobs for the Captain or Commander.

But it was all far from hazing.

"What happened?" Kix asked.

Coric shrugged. "One of the newer guys thought he'd show a couple shinies what-for." He grinned. "They beat him good, surprisingly. Ended up leaving the fight with a snapped ankle."

"You said a _shiny_ broke their ankle."

"Yeah. As far as anyone's concerned, he's been reverted to shiny status. Armor's shiny enough anyway, and the paint's easy to scrub."

"That sounds a bit harsh," Kix said, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the poor brother.

Coric _harrumphed_. "He brought it on himself," he assured. "Besides, I don't think he's actually been on the field yet. Which is a real shame; he's ugly."

Kix snorted, shrugging his brother's arm off his shoulder. "Like you're much of a looker your-"

Kix let out a strangled noise as something burst in his chest filling him with a sudden, overwhelming heat that seared every nerve. The suddenness of it sent him reeling and, for a moment, the world slipped out of focus. Someone, somewhere, was screaming at him, and through the thick syrup filling his skull, he wondered what he'd done wrong.

 _I did my job_ , he thought hazily.

His whole body tensed painfully, to the point where he felt that his innards might burst from the pressure. A thread of consciousness tried to command his eyelids, but a more primal part shouted _danger_. Danger? What danger? They were in mess, weren't they? There was no danger there, just brothers. His muscles relaxed following a prick to the neck and the pain was replaced with a cool rush, followed by a warm and pleasant heat. He let his head drop, or what he was sure was his head - everything was so jumbled, so confusing - and felt his eyelids pry open.

He'd never felt so exhausted in his life.

"Kix?" Rough hands took hold of his face, turning his head this way and that. A light flashed in his eyes and made him flinch. "Can you talk to me? Make a noise? Let me know if you can hear me."

That was a stupid question. Of course he could talk.

He couldn't.

The owner of the voice swore. "Send for the meddroids and tell them to bring a stretcher. Now!"

Kix was hefted not a moment later onto a hard surface, and he marveled at how nice and cool it was. Wonderful on his hands, hot to the fingertips from overworking. He wanted to press his palms into the metal, but they were deaf to his commands.

He wondered at that for a good long time. But he was tired, and the pain had left him. The least the hands prodding him could do was let him rest a bit. He'd done his job- now he just needed a nap.

The darkness threaded itself through the last vestiges of consciousness, and dragged him under. He went willingly.


	5. Discovery

**This chapter is short for a reason. The next is when things will start to move, if everything goes according to plan. Thank you to all who have reviewed! It fuels me, it really does.**

 **Keep in mind that this is short because it's a transitional thing. Things will pick up in the next chapter, I promise.**

 **~ Sam**

* * *

For hours, Coric slaved over data and diagrams. Kix's logs, test results, chemical readings, and simulations.

The information he turned up did nothing to settle his anxiety. Rex succumbed easily to the degeneration because of the wound he'd sustained earlier, but it had taken approximately a full day for the decay to set in for Kix. On the other hand, Lance had succumbed quickly. All Coric could do was chalk it up to an inexperienced immune system.

Shinies had that problem. Kamino was so sterile that the only defense against disease the clones had were rudimentary vaccinations and genetically programmed immunity. It was expected for a shiny to get a bit of a cold on their first ground mission. An initiation to cement their status.

Coric set his datapad on the desk and pulled on a filtering mask, then moved to Kix's bedside. The anxious knot twined itself tighter at the sight of Kix literally decaying before Coric's eyes. Darkened veins streaked like lightning beneath the skin below Kix's jaw, traveling upward to his left eye. When Coric pulled back the lid to check for dilation, found that the sclera had been discolored as well. They veins there were prominent and dark, as if Kix had been poisoned.

In a sense, he had. If the simulations were correct, Kix would be blind in that eye within a few hours.

The only reason it took hours at all was because of his medic 'upgrades', for want of a better term. Supplementary vaccinations, genetically strengthened systems that could keep him running in the midst of a plague. Kix had held the cellular breakdown off admirably, but this went far beyond immunity.

Kamino could fix this. Their genetic research could provide an answer within a week, could find a way to reverse the degradation. Coric himself already had plenty of methods with which to treat this, but his training and knowledge only extended so far. He was no geneticist. And then, there was the chance that they would simply purify the ranks with a purge.

And then what? Coric frowned behind the mask, a shudder passing through him and a chill following on its heels. _He needed to get working._

Making sure his mask was still in place, Coric left his brother to rest and returned to his research. They were a medic down and it was only a matter of time before he too fell victim.

* * *

Fives did not consider himself to be tangled up in the mystery of fate. His life felt too thick with chance, too convoluted to accept some definitive path with an absolute ending. It seemed too… _confining_. Too mystical and _jedi,_ not suited for a clone like him. Funny thing, actually. He could hardly control his life as it was. Fate... _something_ told him he never would.

Either the jedi 'fate' was unfair, or it would never favor a mere clone. He couldn't bring himself care either way.

The ARC sat alone in the corner of the gym, watching his brothers go about their business. It smelled of familiarity and comfort, a harsh contrast to the stink of antiseptic that always lingered whenever he thought of Kamino. Kamino wasn't home, but neither was Coruscant or the _Resolute_. No, home was with his brothers. Even if they reek like dead banthas when they had finished up in the gym.

He'd rejected several offers already to join them for a spar, citing 'very cerebral (a word he was quite surprised he knew) ARC duties' as the cause. He was really just worrying, and perhaps sulking. As a clone, he had very little access to the mission records, or any of the files on the sickness plaguing Rex and now Kix. And as an ARC...

 _Wait. Of course!_

Fives jumped from his seat and darted from the gym at a hurried pace toward the General's quarters. ARCs had access to more than the average trooper, be it mission reports or medical files- should the proper situation present itself. With Rex out of commission, and Ahsoka occupied with 'releasing her emotion into the Force', the General was the only one he could go to.

Surely Skywalker would understand. While the Jedi worked elsewhere, Fives could do what he did best.

He knocked on the door withe the broad side of his fist. The door swooshed open immediately to reveal a weary General Skywalker, who leaned heavily on the door jamb.

The ARC stood at attention and flashed a quick salute. "I need access," he said. Fives didn't need charm for this, he needed bluntness. He needed the General's help _now_.

Anakin stared blankly until Fives began to feel awkward. The faint tickle of a jedi mind probe poked at his outer subconscious. Presumably sensing the ARC's urgency, Anakin straightened, expression hardening as he realized what Fives had come here for. His eyes were suddenly lit with understanding.

"You already have access."

Fives let loose the breath he'd been holding for the duration of his staring contest with the General. He collected himself after the shock of the immediate approval and nodded vigorously in thanks. "Thank you sir. I'll get to work immediately."

Before he could walk away, Anakin's hand snapped out and took Fives by the shoulder. He reeled the ARC in and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Listen, Fives. I don't know what you intend to do with whatever you find, and I don't want to. But you need to keep it quiet. This stuff is hard on morale, and the Republic would not approve of me letting you in. My permission won't hold up in a court if you get caught. My authority only extends to the ship."

Fives swallowed at the mention of _court_. A military tribunal for a clone was rare because of their loyalty. When they did come about, they were immediate, severe, and the consequences were almost _always_ reconditioning. That word still soured his tongue and left him nauseated, despite not fully knowing what it entailed.

"I understand, sir."

Another moment passed, then Anakin patted Fives' shoulder. "Good." With one last look, he backed up and let the door slide back into place, leaving Fives alone in the hallway.

Fives about-faced and headed in a brisk pace toward the research center. The spoils of their conquest would be held there for screening and processing before being sent through to the Republic. If Fives was lucky, it was still ongoing, and thus accessing it would require very little sifting and time.

At the end of the corridor was a junction that connected the lifts, officers quarters, and command deck. Fives took a hard right down the hall leading to command and halted exactly seventeen paces in. A single insignificant looking door was guarded by two of his brothers in 501st blue.

They greeted him and recognized his ARC status with an upward head tilt, which he returned in kind with a tilt of his own. He followed it with the crossing of his arms over his chest and they immediately parted form the door. It was a friendly request that also exercised authority, and the two troopers had responded swimmingly. He'd have to catch their names later.

Their brothers' code could come in handy in situations like that. A verbal request would have gone unnoticed without the express permission of an officer. Communicating in the natural way they all did was guaranteed access.

He'd been trying to teach Ahsoka for some time. It was an expression of trust, and his brothers, originally skeptical of the idea, had quickly caved and agreed to help her learn. For the Commander.

Stepping inside, Fives swept his gaze across the room. "Uh, standard security sweep," he said. "Starting with... recent mission reports. Circa, uh, a few days ago?"

The attending clerk looked up from its sorting. "Section B, isle four-seven. Please watch your step." With that, it promptly returned to its task and left Fives to search in peace.

With a silent thank you, Fives threw himself fully into the search. He found the isle and the proper terminal with ease. He accessed it with ARC passcodes and found that the General had pulled through. ARC codes could only get so far before a higher officer was required, but corresponding with his ID was Anakin's short-term permission code, which he punched into the terminal.

 _Mission Report ID# 33-1b-9_

 _Accessing..._

The file opened and filled the screen with a measly amount of information. A handful of vials with trace amounts of a contagion Coric had yet to identify. An incomplete set of coordinates slated for processing by Republic Intel. Fives scrolled down. Casualty log. A short report by Kix on the nature of the virus. And... wait...

 _What the hell...?_

Beneath Kix's report was another file and Fives quickly opened it. What he found made his gut twist into a tight knot so tight he thought he'd suffocate right then and there.

 _TERMINATION REQUEST_

 _It is my belief that in order to stall the spread of this decay, we must remove all clones who could potentially be carrying the disease and send what remains to Kamino for further study._

 _Below is an attachment of clones to start with._

 _CT-7567_

 _CT-6116_

 _CT-5597_

 _CT-5385_

 _CT-6264_

Those were his _brothers_. His family. According to the stamp at the bottom, the request was pending. That meant it hadn't yet gone through to the General. It didn't calm the fear dwelling within him, but it did offer comfort. He scrolled down one more.

 _ARC-5555_

Fives breathed in and out shakily. He scrolled up once more and penned the coordinates onto a spare piece of flimsi. He logged out of the database hurriedly and avoided the clerk entirely on his way out and ignoring the good wishes of his brothers.

This was bad. Someone in the system, someone on the _ship_ wanted them gone. Out of the way. The General would not allow that, but what if they went straight to the Republic? If they viewed Fives and his brothers as a threat, then they would be dealt with as a threat and there was nothing the General could do. As jedi, complicated military matters such as this were not Anakin's place. He could pull strings here and there, but what would that get him?

The ARC slowed his hurried pace to a confident walk as he made his way to the lifts. He stepped inside and scrubbed his palm down his face then pinched the bridge of his nose, a shaken, rattled noise pulling itself from his throat. This was a mess. A huge, horrible mess.

The lift doors dinged and slid open to the barracks, where troopers milled about and chatted in the space between bunks. They all had a clear conscience. They worried only about the disease affecting them or their squad. They didn't know about the pending termination of their brothers and Fives would not tell them.

He couldn't burden them with the knowledge that they might be next.

Fives found his bunk and settled onto it with one arm thrown over his eyes. Adjusting for comfort with his armor, he let himself sleep. He needed to... He needed to sleep it off.

Yeah. That sounded good.

Unfortunately, sleep was not an option.

"Fives! I've been looking for you! Where'd you go?"

Fives lowered his arm and peeked through one eye at Tup, who stood bent over his bunk with his forearms resting on the railing of the top bunk for support. Fives rolled onto his side.

"ARC business, Tup," he explained vaguely. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. 'ARC business stays with the ARCs'."

Fives huffed. "Oh, good. Since we've got that cleared up, maybe I can sleep now?"

Tup snickered, unaware of the events that had just transpired. In a state of blissful ignorance Fives knew wouldn't last for long. "Brother, it's only mid-cycle. I came down here to fetch you for a game in the gym. Bolo-ball."

"Bolo-ball before lunch? Really?" Fives peered up at his brother. He forced a lopsided grin. "All of Torrent or just you 'n' Jesse?"

"Torrent." Taking a seat at the edge of the bunk, Tup promptly threw himself across his brother's legs and stretched out.

"Oh- hey, ge'off! You're too heavy!"

"Am not! Are you coming or not?"

Fives' fingers got good grips on Tup's bodysuit and pull-pushed, rolling the poor trooper to the end of the bunk. Tup sat up and ducked his head to avoid hitting the underside of the top bunk. "Maybe. I told ya- ARC business."

"Yeah, but, that can wait," Tup said. His eyes widened and he looked pleading. "Please?"

Fives groaned. Tup was a suck up and a master at manipulation when it came to Fives. His most favorite, littlest brother had Fives wrapped around his finger like no other and boy, did he take advantage. Fives supposed he could use a good bolo match to ease stress. He'd made the mistake once before of turning down a game and thus missed out on a wealth of good stories to charm the ladies at 79's with.

Safe to say, those stories rarely actually worked.

"Alright, alright. I'll come. Lead the way. _Bastard_."

Tup smiled and together, they made for the gym.


End file.
